When the Going Gets Tough... (Part 3)

These days, i don't even think freehold/leasehold anymore.  The key to being adaptable so as to survive without a constant pounding head in London, is to know when not to fuss.

(Self- Cheer:  I'm adaptable!  I'm flexible!  I can still put my nose to my knee without too much hunching of my back!)

Last Saturday, I stood entombed in a mews house for sale.

Husband:  Baby, does it feel very claustrophobic?  

Realtor:  So what do you think?  Excellent location huh? It's got an integrated kitchen!

Moi:  Please would you mind lifting all the blinds?  Do the windows open?  Is there a rat problem?  Leaking issues?

Blinds lifted, I stood staring past the glass.  What a view- a wall of brown bricks!

Realtor (honestly a very sweet man):  It's priced to sell!  It's a very unique property!

Moi:  Can I extend upwards?  Build a loft, throw in skylights?

Realtor:  Uh, No.  

Moi:  Can I gut it out and dig up a lower ground floor?

Realtor:  Huh, Yes.  But, you are willing to take on all that work?

In yoga, the headstand is like a revered posture, king of the asanas.  It's supposedly healing for the body and mind.  Upside down, literally, you see the world from a changed perspective.

I so dislike the headstand.  What comes back to me is the physical memory of taking on a boy's dare, flinging myself in the wrong direction from Popo's swing, and falling head first, smashing on the hard ground.

There was so much blood that day.

***

I made an offer on a flat I liked.  

Realtor:  It's very rare in London to find a lateral flat!  4 sash windows instead of 2!

Moi:  And the restaurant downstairs?  What if it becomes a Chinese take-out or an Indian joint?  How would I be able to sell it then?

Realtor:

Then God saved me from the risk of Tandoori Chicken and Chicken Chow Mein.  For we found in fine print that it was not dog-friendly.  Not dog-friendly?  Impossible.  I can't live without Bruno Chan!

For a while, I paused at Mid-century and the aristocratic English village north.  Sweet J has a house,  Kate Moss lives down the street, and there are these glorious, glorious woods.

But the vendor was "stuck in a chain", and then another, and another.  My husband came, took one look at Mid-century, declared its scale all wrong.

"Wrong!"

I know that in the end, God will provide and the flat will find me.  It's kind of like finding, love.  You do what you can, while waiting, try to stay serene.

Sometimes, you remember to pray.

(Dear God, I know I should straighten my back, but I am rusty/rusting...)

  At all times, never give up hope.  At all times, keep stretching, flexing.  For when the going gets tough, the tough damn it, gets going. 

(* With photographic contributions by Summie Chan.  To her relief, neither model was injured during the process.)